


together, or not at all

by princessrosberg



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Reunions, set after Ray left AH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 04:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7829821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessrosberg/pseuds/princessrosberg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the midst of a heist, Ryan stumbles upon a familiar face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	together, or not at all

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohnojamie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnojamie/gifts), [foolishwolves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolishwolves/gifts).



> Holy shit i've not wrote anything for these since 2014 so i'm pretty rusty, but my R&R shipper heart needed this so here we go. This is also for my amazing wives Amy and Jamie because they're AH trash whores too <3

_ Dude it’s going to fine trust me!  _

And usually when Gavin said something like that, with that stupid proud grin on his face as if they already had the money in their hands and everything was fine, it never was. But if Michael trusted him, then Ryan would too. It’s easier to just go along with them, cross his fingers and pray he doesn’t fuck anything up - but really, this is  _ Gavin  _ and he can fuck up an entire heist with just his little finger. 

He’d chosen Pacific Standard of all places, on Vinewood Boulevard and Ryan was  _ pretty sure  _ the place would be crawling with cops and security cameras - definitely not the easiest place to rob for a ‘ _ Spontaneous heist’.  _ He glances out the window of the Kuruma, watching the cars whiz by innocently with no idea of what’s about the unfold - though it’s not ridiculously hard to guess since they’re driving an armoured car over the speed limit down the highway. 

His trusty skull mask is laying across the back seat, finger already curled around the trigger of the Shrewsbury assault rifle. They’re nowhere near the bank yet, still a couple more miles to go but Ryan is already in - as Gavin liked to call it,  _ heist mode - _ ready to pull his gun on the rich pricks of Vinewood or take down a couple of cops. It’s all just foreplay to him really. 

“Gavin you fuck! You missed the- you know what nevermind”   
Michael’s voice is loud from the front seat, his brows furrowed in slight annoyance and when Ryan glances back out the window, yeah, Michael was right, he’d missed the fucking right turn. Ryan grabs his mask, slips it over his face and only half listens to the exchange between Michael and Gavin - he’s only here for a bit of fun, it’s not like he had anything better to do, plus if Gavin wound up dead he did  _ not  _ want to have his ear nagged off by Geoff about how  _ this wouldn’t of happened if you were there!  _

“Remember the plan boi?”    
Gavin grins, his obnoxiously gold sunglasses still perched on his nose as he turns to Michael, tying the black bandana across his face. Michael just rolls his eyes and slips on his own mask, shrugging off his brown leather jacket because  _ like fuck he was going to get blood on that.  _ Ryan glances at his watch, calculating the time they’d agreed to be in the bank for before sending a quick text to Jack, hoping he’s not too busy fucking his wife to actually  _ check  _ his phone and have the chopper ready. 

“You ready to bounce Ry?”    
Michael slips his own mask over his face, glancing over his shoulder at Ryan who just nods before he hops out of the back and heads straight through the front doors of the bank. The citizen’s don’t even panic for a moment, because carrying a gun around Los Santos is just so  _ damn normal  _ these days - hell people weren’t surprised if the sweet old lady next door had a double barreled shotgun in her shopping basket. But when the three of them rock up with masks across their faces and start firing upwards, they have a right to start the panic. 

“Everyone on the ground!”   
Michaels shouts over the ruckus and screaming - it’s only natural he took charge, having the loudest voice and all. Ryan glances around, keeps his eye on the staff behind the glass so they don’t even  _ think  _ about hitting the panic button beneath the desk. Michael and Gavin soon disappear into the back towards the fault, hoping to hit quite a nice loot of around 1 million. He walks about the people crouched on the floor, their hands locked together and placed on the backs of their head - the usual drill. 

“Anyone moves and you're  _ fucking  _ dead”    
Ryan growls out when he spots one of the employees from the corner of his eye try to move, and they suddenly freeze up again when he turns around to stare them down. Everything seems to be going swimmingly for once, there’s no sound of the cops approaching, the citizens and employees now know that Ryan isn’t messing about and are keeping completely still as he walks between them. But then, he hears one of the cash machines from his left, and when he whips his head around he can’t  _ fucking believe  _ the sight.

There’s a guy with his back to Ryan, tapping away at the cash machine as if it’s a normal day and there isn’t a crazed man in a mask carrying a gun around.    
“ _ Hey!  _ Get on the fucking ground”   
Ryan calls out to him, but the guy doesn’t budge, doesn’t even flinch as he continues to type away at the machine. He can’t  _ fucking believe  _ this guy and if they didn’t have the rules set down of  _ only shoot when needed  _ he’d of took the fucker out there and then. Instead he raises his gun, strides over to the guy and presses the barrel against his back. Even  _ that  _ doesn’t make him flinch. 

“You don’t get on the ground in the next 5 seconds i’ll-” 

“You’ll  _ what?”  _   
And that voice, it’s so fucking familiar to Ryan. It’s the voice he’d hear every night before he passed out, the voice that would call his name with the hint of a smile in it, the one that would spend hours talking to him at the top of their penthouse talking about everything and anything. But  _ fuck,  _ it can’t be - not here, not now. He turns around, curls his hand around Ryan’s gun and pushes it down with a  _ fucking  _ grin across his face. 

“You weren’t going to kill me were you Ry-Bread?”   
Yeah, it fucking is him. He can’t remember the last time he’d seen Ray, it’s been 2 years since he left the FAHC and no one had heard  _ anything  _ from him - but here he is, with the same messy dark hair and the same thick rimmed glasses smiling at Ryan as if the 2 years apart had  _ never  _ happened. 

He doesn’t know what to say, so does the only thing he knows how to. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out the purple bandana he carries everywhere and hands it over to Ray. It’s a little creased, dried blood still staining the material from the last ever heist Ray had joined them on - he carries it everywhere, a sort of memento of everything they’d been through. Ray smiles back at him, unfolds the crumpled piece of material and ties it around his face. 

“You gonna give me a gun?”   
He can see Ray is still smiling from underneath the bandana, his hand on his hip as he keeps his gaze on Ryan. He’s moving animatedly now, the shock of  _ him being here  _ still knocking all sense out of the window. Ryan pulls the combat pistol away from the straps, hands it over to Ray and their fingers brush for just a second but  _ fuck,  _ he’s missed the feeling way too much. He claps Ryan on the shoulder.    
“We gonna light this shit up like old times? Give it the R&R treatment?” 

“Fuck yeah”   
He’s suddenly more invested now with Ray back by his side - he loves the rest of his crew, protects the lads with his life and would go down in a blaze of glory with the gents, but none of them were like Ray. He’s missed their relationship, their  _ not quite lovers but more than best friends  _ thing they had going on. 

Gavin and Michael soon appear back in the lobby, now with bags over their shoulders that Ryan only hopes is  _ teeming  _ with money. The moment Gavin spots Ray though, he drops the bags beside Michael, ignores his calls and the fact they’re still not free of danger and latches himself around the shorter boy. 

“X-Ray!”   
Ray laughs, pats the brit on the back and manages to wriggle free of his death grip.

“Yeah i missed you too dude”   
Ryan ends up helping Michael with the bags of money, smiling slightly when he catches the way he gazes at Gavin, the love and adoration in his eyes - he remembers when he’d look at Ray like that. 

Jack is there like he’d promised, waiting in the black buzzard that’s conveniently parked in the middle of the fucking street - not suspicious  _ at all.  _ Michael and Gavin jump in first, the brit curling straight up against Michael with a happy smile on his face, but before Ryan follows the two he rummages through the ammo bag in the chopper until he finds one of the few grenades they carry. Nobody bothers asking what he’s planning as he hands it over to Ray with a smile. 

“Want to do the honours?” 

Ryan pushes his mask away from his face, runs a hand through his unruly blonde hair and smiles properly at Ray this time. If they’re going to do this they’re going to do it properly. Ray pulls his own bandana away, hands it back over to Ryan as he pulls the pin away, holds it in his hand for a moment before throwing it straight through the doors of the bank. They scramble into the chopper, Jack taking off just in time before the building explodes, the concrete braking from the impact and crashing down onto the floor. 

Ray’s fingers curl around Ryan’s hand slightly, his thumb brushing across Ryan’s skin as if he needs to contact too. He drops his head back, smile across his face. The money doesn’t mean shit to him, not now he’s got Ray here, even if it’s just for a few more moments. This is the stuff they do together; the heists, getting high and having 3am joyrides. And well, if he hasn’t got Ray by his side to do this stuff  _ together,  _ he doesn’t want to fucking do it at all. 


End file.
